Where Your Flowers Can Bloom
by pokeitlikejello
Summary: SEQUEL to I Will Buy You A Garden. It was a little over eight years since Cuddy gave birth to her daughter. Cuddy's life is somewhat balanced with what she had created for herself and her daughter. That is, until House decides to cross the.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own House M.D. nor the characters.

**Author's Note:** Well, kids, I did it. This is chock full of fun! We've got some angst, we've got some fluffiness, we've got some hot, and we've got some flashbacks. And as I think about it, I should wait and post it on the fifth (the day Sarah was born), but then you'd all have to wait two more days. And no one wants that! So, enjoy!!

* * *

House entered Cuddy's office and shut the door behind him. He swiveled around to face Cuddy, mouth open as an insult prepared itself, but he stopped upon seeing the child. He brought his eyes back to Cuddy. 

"What is _she_ doing here?" House indicated the girl.

The child with his blue eyes stared at him. "You're mean."

"Am not," House whined in her direction.

She placed her hands on her hips just like her mother. "Are too."

House made a face. "Not."

"Too," she insisted.

"Children, please," Cuddy interrupted, her eyes on House. "Mommy's trying to work."

"Sorry, Mommy," piped up the young voice.

"Yeah, sorry, _Mommy_," House mimicked with a sneer.

"House, do you need something?" Cuddy placed a hand on her large stack of paperwork, hoping he received the hint that she was busy.

House limped across the office. "I guess I can't request anything inappropriate, so no."

"Then, leave." Cuddy gave him tight smile.

"No s-e-x?" House stopped in front of her desk.

"Sex?" the little girl looked up from her homework as she sat on the couch.

House's head snapped toward the couch. "What?"

"House!" Cuddy exclaimed, glaring.

House looked back at Cuddy. "Your daughter knows about sex?"

"_No_." Cuddy stood from her chair. "But, she's good at spelling."

"I didn't know sex was on the second grade spelling list," House replied.

Sarah had made her way over to her mother's desk and stared up, her dark hair falling over her shoulders. "Mom, what's sex mean?"

"Nothing," Cuddy told her daughter and then glared at House. "Some children know how to put letters together to form words, House."

"I can ask Ms. Ratchford what sex means," Sarah offered and looked up expectantly at Cuddy.

Cuddy shook her head. "No, don't do that."

House cleared his throat. "Sex is-"

"House," Cuddy warned.

"If you won't tell her, I will," House said.

Sarah turned her attention to House. "What's sex mean, Dr. House?"

"Sex is a word only adults can use," House told her.

"But, what does it _mean_?" Sarah asked.

"Only adults are allowed to know." He nodded.

Sarah scrunched her face. "Why?"

"Because that's what God says." He leaned down closer to her.

"You don't believe in God," Sarah replied.

House drew back slightly. "Who said that?"

"Mommy," Sarah answered.

House straightened and looked at Cuddy. "Why were you talking about me and God?"

Cuddy gave a shrug. "She asked."

House turned back to Sarah, eyebrows drawn. "You asked?"

"Why did God say that about s-" Sarah stopped. "I mean, the 's' word?"

"Because if you say it before you're an adult, you'll burn in Hell," House informed her, adding an element of menace to his voice.

"House!" Cuddy exclaimed.

"What?" House asked loudly, directing his gaze back to Cuddy.

"Mom, is that true?" Sarah asked her mother, unsure of House.

"N-" Cuddy paused. "Yes."

House smirked and looked at Sarah. "So don't ever say that word."

"I already said it!" Sarah exclaimed, a look of horror crossing over her face.

"It only counts _after_ you learn about the rule," House was quick to reply.

Sarah stared at House not sure if she should believe him, a look he could have easily seen on the girl's mother. "Are you sure?"

"Completely," House answered with a nod.

"Sarah, there's Uncle James," Cuddy spoke up. "Why don't you go say hello?"

Sarah looked toward the office door and smiled at the sight of Wilson handing a set of charts over to a nurse.

"Okay!" Sarah ran out of the office.

"Nice one, House." Cuddy rolled her eyes and walked around her desk.

"Why am I always Dr. House and he gets to be Uncle James?" House asked, watching her movement.

"Because you lie to my daughter," Cuddy answered and headed toward the couch to look over Sarah's homework.

"So does he!" House exclaimed, throwing his arms out.

Cuddy turned to him and frowned. "Give me one-"

"Tooth fairy," House cut her off.

"That's childhood innocence, House," Cuddy replied. "It's not the same-"

"Fine," House stopped her from ranting. "I won't lie to her anymore."

"Good."

Cuddy skimmed the math problems, checking her daughter's work and smiling slightly as she noted the answers were all correct. House was brooding, staring at Cuddy, but not actually seeing her. The office door opened and the little girl in the purple dress and white tights made her way back in.

"Mommy?"

Cuddy looked up and smiled. "Yes, Sarah?"

"Who is my dad?" Sarah lingered by the doorway and caught House's attention with her last word.

"Why?" Cuddy asked softly, slightly confused, and crossed the room.

Sarah let out a sigh that was almost frustrated. "Well, Uncle James was wearing a tie he said he got for Father's Day last year. And... do you think my dad wants a tie, too?"

Cuddy squatted to be closer to Sarah's level. "Honey, we talked about this."

"I _know_," Sarah whined. "But, we talked about Mother's Day and Father's Day in school and... doesn't he want to meet me?"

Cuddy couldn't bear seeing the pained expression on her daughter's face. "Sarah-"

"Actually, Mick..." House cocked his head to the side and moved towards the door. "Your dad does want to meet you."

Cuddy straightened. "House."

"You know him?" Sarah asked.

"I_ am_ him," he told her.

"House!" Cuddy hissed through gritted teeth, her hands clenched in tight fists.

"Huh?" Sarah stared up at House.

"I'm the daddy your- how did you put it?" House looked to Cuddy, but quickly directed his gaze back to Sarah after seeing the anger on Cuddy's face. "Oh, right, I'm the daddy your mommy picked from all the other daddies that wanted to give her a baby."

Sarah shook her head. "But, Mommy doesn't like you."

"She did at one point in time," he replied.

Sarah turned to Cuddy, eyebrows drawn and mouth hanging slightly open, "Mom, is that true?"

Cuddy placed a hand over her eyes and groaned as her other arm clutched around her stomach. House brightened considerably.

"You might want to answer-"

"Get out," Cuddy snapped to House.

"You told me not to-" House tried.

"Get. Out." Cuddy repeated sternly, still not removing her hand from her face.

House hesitated and bit his bottom lip for a moment before letting out a sigh. He maneuvered around Sarah and left. Sarah watched House limp away and then looked back at Cuddy, confusion etched across her face and wondering what she could do to comfort her mother.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ohmigosh, you guys!! Thanks so much for the tremendous feedback!! I didn't know everyone would be this excited for a sequel. I hope you enjoy where I take you and thanks so much for the comments!!**

* * *

"You had no right!" She was already practically in tears. "No right!"

They were alone. House arrived in her office the following morning, hoping she would have cooled off enough to speak to him and not shout. Cuddy, on the other hand, had been waiting for his arrival, her anger still fuming from the previous night.

House stood grounded. "Cuddy, I-"

"No!" Cuddy cut him off and pointed a finger inches from his face. "You do not get to speak. House, she is _my_ daughter and you had no right to tell her you're her father."

"You could have denied it." House shrugged.

"So when she eventually found out, she'd know her mom lied to her?" Cuddy asked and backed away, but her eyes never left him. "House, I didn't tell her for a reason and you completely undermined me. Did it ever cross your mind as to why I didn't tell her? Have you ever wondered why I explained the conception to her the way I did? I mean, I am her _mother_, House. You had no right whatsoever to tell her-"

"If you want me-" House tried to cut in.

"And why now?" Cuddy threw her arms out and walked away from him. She spun quickly in his direction. "Out of any day you could have chosen, why now? Because James is considered an uncle to her and you're nothing so you _had_ to show him up? You had to be on top one more time?"

House directed his eyes to the ceiling. "If by on top, you mean-"

"James knows," Cuddy told him. "He knows Sarah is yours. He's not stupid. You could have gone in and rubbed it in his face all you wanted, but to tell _her_ that-"

House sighed loudly. "Am I ever going to get a chance to say something?"

"I don't _want_ to hear what you have to say," Cuddy spat back. "I don't want to _know_ the excuse you're going to give. It's not going to be honest, it's not going to be sincere-"

"Would you let me give it?" House asked.

"No," Cuddy shot him down. "You're unhappy so you have to ruin everyone else's lives."

House's eyebrows drew together in annoyance. "I doubt your life is ruined."

"Get out," Cuddy commanded and pointed to the door.

"Lisa," House locked eyes with her. "I gave you that child."

Cuddy placed her hands on her hips. "So?"

"Don't you remember?" House limped his way closer to her.

"Of course I remember," Cuddy spat back. "I also remember that it was an agreement that all you would provide was the sperm."

House stopped. "Is that all I am to you?"

Cuddy hesitated only a moment. "Yes."

* * *

"You don't think she meant it, right?" House looked up from his seat on the couch. 

"Do you?" Wilson looked up from his desk.

"She was angry," House replied.

"Well, you did tell Sarah you were her father," Wilson returned with a raise of his eyebrows.

"I _am_ Mick's father," House said and sighed.

Wilson stared. "Wow."

"What?" House asked.

"Nothing, it's just..." Wilson gave a shrug. "That's the first time I've ever heard you say it."

"You knew though," House replied, slightly distracted by his own thoughts.

"Of course I did," Wilson agreed. "I'm not blind. And I'm not an idiot either. Lisa brought her in with a stomach pains when she was three and you were on top of it as soon as they came through the doors."

"Cuddy bribed me." House returned to the present conversation. "She only wanted the best."

"What about when she had the flu at five?" Wilson asked, knowing he was right.

House drew back slightly. "How do you remember that?"

"How can anyone forget?" Wilson raised his eyebrows. "You were an asshole that entire week, you were so worried."

"Kids die from the flu," House said simply. "Cuddy had me on that-"

"Don't pin this all on Lisa," Wilson cut him off. "Besides, Sarah looks like you. Well, her eyes are yours. That's easy to see." Wilson gave a short nod. "She's smart."

"So's Cuddy if you haven't noticed," House replied.

"And she broods," Wilson pointed out.

House frowned. "Cuddy-"

"Lisa doesn't brood." Wilson raised a pointed finger, stopping him. "Not that deep. Not like that. She's got her hands full having a kid of yours."

"Well, your kids aren't so great either," House sneered.

"Hey, we're talking about you and your daddy issues," Wilson told him.

"Daddy issues?" House repeated.

"Admit it," Wilson said. "You want to be that girl's father."

House gave him a look expressing his exhaustion. "I _am_-"

"You know what I mean," Wilson cut him off.

House shook his head. "Mick needs no daddy."

Wilson brightened a bit and called House on another point. "And you call her Mick."

House rolled his eyes. "I only call her Mick to piss Cuddy off."

"You call her Mick out of possessiveness," Wilson corrected.

House shook his head and stood to his feet. He jammed his cane into the floor and let himself out of Wilson's office. Wilson watched, waiting for the snide response that never came.

* * *

"Can we talk about it now?" 

Sarah stood in the doorway to the living room. Cuddy looked up from the bills in her hands and towards her daughter.

"What, honey?" Cuddy asked.

Sarah entered the room. "Can we talk now about Dr. House being my dad_ now_?"

Cuddy let a sigh escape from parted lips. "Sarah..."

"Mom," Sarah whined in response.

Cuddy set the bills on the coffee table and leaned back into the couch. Sarah sat next to her mother, waiting expectantly.

"What is it that you want to know?" Cuddy asked.

Sarah pushed a chunk of dark hair behind her ear. "Why aren't you together?"

"Because we-" Cuddy paused. "Aren't right for each other."

Sarah frowned. "Why doesn't he want to be my dad?"

Cuddy shook her head. "It's not that, Sarah."

"He does want to be my dad?" Sarah brightened slightly.

"No," Cuddy answered and then lowered her tone. "This is why I didn't want you to know. At least, not now anyway." She took in a breath and brought Sarah's hand within hers. "When I wanted a baby, Dr. House and I talked about what would happen if he helped me to have a baby. I would be a mother and he wouldn't be the dad."

"But, he is my dad," Sarah said.

"Yes," Cuddy agreed and hesitated, trying to find the right words. "But, he wouldn't be with us."

"Why?" Sarah asked. "Doesn't he love me?"

"Sarah." Cuddy didn't know what else to say.

"You said parents love their children uncondushilly," Sarah pointed out.

"Unconditionally," Cuddy corrected.

"So, doesn't he love me?" Sarah didn't understand why she was wrong.

"It's not as easy as that," Cuddy told her softly. "I know you're confused and you don't understand, but the answers I can give you aren't simple."

"So..." Sarah thought it over and pulled her hand out of her mother's. "It's like he's really not my dad."

Cuddy nodded slightly. "In a way."

Sarah stared at her. "But, doesn't he want kids?"

"No, sweetie," Cuddy answered.

"But, what if he does and he just didn't tell you?" The hope on Sarah's face tore right through Cuddy.

"Come here." Cuddy held her arms out.

Sarah crawled across the couch and into the arms of her mother. Cuddy wrapped her warmth around the child and kissed her on the head.

"I wish I could give you a daddy, Sarah, but House isn't him," Cuddy said gently.

"But, he is my daddy, Mom," Sarah replied. "Maybe he changed his mind."

"I don't think so, baby." Cuddy kissed the girl's head again. "I don't think so."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you, everyone, for the reviews! You guys mean so much to me, you have no idea. I'm glad you're enjoying the fic and I hope you like this next chapter. I'm fond of it. Enjoy!**

* * *

House stared at the child standing in front of his office door as it swung shut. He slid his chair out in preparation to stand, but decided against actually rising to his feet. 

"Aren't you suppose to be in school?" he sneered, almost hoping to scare her away.

"No," she answered simply, holding her ground.

"Why not?" House eyed her up.

"It was a half day," she told him and then gave a shrug.

"Why are you _here_?" he asked.

"Mom's office is boring." Sarah toyed with the end of her red belt that was around her blue jeans. "Can you play with me?"

"No," House answered immediately.

"Why?" Sarah cocked her head to the side.

"I don't play with children," House shook his head, staring her down.

"Why?" Sarah asked again.

"Because they're annoying." House made a face at the girl.

"I am not!" She exclaimed placing her hands on her hips. She suddenly dropped them as she looked at his guitar and then back at House. "Can I play your guitar?"

"No."

"Why not?" Sarah pouted and folded her arms over her white Hello Kitty shirt.

"Because it's mine," House replied.

House wasn't going to let his guard down just because she was pouting. It was hardly ever that anyone pouted at him anyway. Stacy never did and Cuddy never did either. The women of his life weren't pouters.

Sarah dropped her arms to her sides and raised her chin. "Fine."

With that, she turned around and headed for the door. House's eyebrows drew together. _That_ look he was familiar with. He got it several times a week from Cuddy. He could play Sarah's game. House slid his chair across the floor and to the resting guitar.

"Have you ever held a guitar like this one?" House spoke up just as she reached the door.

Sarah turned and shook her head no. House looked her over and let out a sigh. He leaned over in his chair and turned on the amp. He then picked up his guitar.

"Come here." He gave a slight nod.

Sarah's face lit up and House paused for a moment. He wasn't used to getting that kind of reaction so quickly after the glare. He shook that thought from him as Sarah hurriedly arrived at his side. House placed the strap over her shoulder, but made sure he was still holding the weight of the guitar.

"It's heavy," House warned her.

"I got it," Sarah insisted.

She eagerly took the guitar in her hands, her muscles tensing. House reached over and opened his desk draw. He produced a black pick and held it out in front of her. Balancing the guitar, Sarah yanked the pick from his hand. She strummed it hard against the strings and House winced.

"Easy," he instructed.

"Sorry," Sarah apologized, giving House a smile that was missing one tooth on the bottom row and one on the top row.

Sarah strummed lighter on the strings. House leaned back in his chair a bit, relaxing even though his, technically speaking, 'baby' was holding his baby.

"Now you're looking like Mick Jagger," House told her, his eyes slightly lit up.

Sarah stopped playing and looked at House. "Is that who I'm named after?"

"No." House shook his head.

"But, you call me Mick," Sarah replied.

"That's to make your mom mad," House said.

"Why?" Sarah asked.

"Because she deserves it," House answered her.

Sarah's eyebrows drew together. "But, why does she get mad?"

House shook his head again. "That's a very long story which we don't have time for."

"Do you want kids?" Sarah asked him, her tone indicating pure curiosity.

"No."

"Are you sure?" Sarah's eyes widened.

House paused, eyeing her up. "Why?"

"Well, you helped my mom have me." Sarah gave a small shrug.

"There were a lot of reasons behind that," House began, "but none of them included me wanting kids."

"Oh." Sarah looked back down at the guitar and strummed lightly.

"Here." House drew her attention back to him. "Come here. I'll show you how to play some chords."

"Okay," Sarah agreed and carried the guitar over to him.

Cuddy stood in the hall, watching as House reached around Sarah and placed her fingers on the strings to correctly play a series of chords. A part of Cuddy wanted to go in there and demand her daughter back, especially since she was still angry with House. However, a part of her wanted to watch in the hope that the stinging in her heart would subside. A stinging that she hadn't felt this intensely since three years ago.

"_How is she?" He lingered in the doorway of the hospital room._

"_Fever's down," she answered shortly, unsure of his presence._

"_That's good." He took a step inside._

"_Yeah." She wanted to break something. Or throw up. Or cry. But, she couldn't decide which one it should be._

"_Come here," he told her gently and limped further into the room._

_Cuddy shook her head. She already felt powerless and giving in to House would only make her feel even weaker. House walked over to her, but his eyes were on the five year old child in the bed. He stood next to Cuddy._

"_She'll be all right," he said._

"_You don't know that," she replied._

"_You're right," he agreed. "She could die."_

_Cuddy didn't look at him, but when she blinked, the tears she was trying to hold back spilled over._

"_I was never good at bedside manner," he offered._

_House reached up and placed a hand on Cuddy's shoulder. She suddenly turned in to him, crying against his chest. House moved his hand around to her back._

"_She's sick and there's _nothing_ I can do about it," she mumbled against the fabric of his shirt._

"_You're doing all you can." He gave her a gentle squeeze._

"_It's not enough," she spat._

_Cuddy moved away from him and sniffed away her tears. House moved to her and paused just behind her._

"_Lisa..."_

_His softened tone caused her to break down again and she turned toward him. He placed his arms around her and drew her in. This time she didn't pull away as the heavy throbbing in her chest began to lessen._

Cuddy snapped herself out of her thoughts. She checked her watch and then entered House's office. She lingered near the doorway.

"There you are." She pretended she hadn't been watching. "What are you doing?"

House looked towards Cuddy. "Just playin' some riffs, Ma."

House took the guitar from Sarah. She ran to her mother and slipped her hand into the warm, thin, familiar fingers.

"Come on, sweetie." Cuddy gave a tug of Sarah's hand. "We're getting pizza on the way home."

"Yay!" Sarah smiled up at her mother.

"Yay!" House mimicked.

Cuddy directed her eyes to House. Sarah stared down at the floor, occupied by her mother's shoes.

"Thanks, House," Cuddy said sincerely, the soft embrace in the past washing back to the surface of her memory once more.

"Mom, can Dr. House come over for dinner?" Sarah looked up, her blues eyes hopeful.

Cuddy shook her head. "Oh, honey, I don't think-"

"Aren't you going to ask him?" Sarah asked in a loud whisper before looking to House.

"I don't like pizza," House said, even though he just had it for dinner the previous night.

"You _don't_ like _pizza_?" Sarah repeated, her mouth hanging open.

"Nope." House gave a shrug and set his guitar back to its proper place.

"Maybe another night, Sarah." Cuddy began to lead the way to the door. "Goodnight, House."

"Night, House," Sarah copied after her mother.

House gave a short nod and occupied himself with turning the amp off. Once the door swung shut, he looked up and watched as the two left from his view.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you everyone for the amazing feedback. And don't worry too much about Wilson and his family. They will make their appearances soon! (I'm actually pretty excited to give Wilson a wife and kids) Okay, anyway, here's the next chapter! Enjoy!!**

* * *

"It's getting to you," Wilson's mouth was hanging open in slight awe as he stared at his friend over the table in the cafeteria.

"What?" House looked over at Wilson.

"Cuddy told me you were teaching Sarah how to play guitar," Wilson said.

"Mick wouldn't shut up unless I let her hold the guitar," House replied.

"Not the version I heard." Wilson smiled smugly. "If you want to teach some more, Cuddy has a late meeting so Sarah will be around."

"Like I'm gonna let her touch my guitar again." House rolled his eyes. "She almost dropped it."

"You can deny it all you want, but this is affecting you." Wilson pointed a finger.

"What is?" House snagged Wilson's potato chips and began eating them.

"Sarah knowing you're her father," Wilson clarified and took a swipe at retrieving his potato chips. "Now, she's taken a different interest in you."

"No, she hasn't."

House crunched the remaining potato chips and set the bag back onto Wilson's tray. Wilson stared at the crumpled bag a moment before looking back up at House. He decided to go back to the subject at hand.

"Don't go behind Cuddy's back on this one."

"What the hell are you even talking about?" House asked him.

"I'm telling you not to do _your_ thing," Wilson replied. "The snooping, the following, the spying. If Cuddy wants you involved now that Sarah knows, she'll bring it up with you."

House eyed him up. "What has she told you?"

"Nothing." Wilson gave a shrug. "I'm just looking out for her."

"Right. Parents United." House gave a nod. He leaned back in his chair. "She never married. She doesn't date."

"What are you saying?" Wilson's eyebrows drew together.

House twirled his cane as it rested across his lap. "Why wouldn't she date? Unless she had a reason not to."

"Do I hear a hint of hope?" Wilson smirked. "Sorry to burst your bubble, but she dates."

House frowned and leaned forward. "When was the last time-"

"Month ago," Wilson cut him off with the answer.

"I bet she had sex," House said and jammed the end of his cane into the floor.

"Couldn't tell you that much," Wilson replied.

"That's because she doesn't tell you everything," House said and took his leave from Wilson.

Wilson stared for a moment and then called after him. "Yeah, because she does with you!"

* * *

"Psst." House peeked around the corner in the hallway. 

Sarah turned from the vending machine. "Dr. House?"

"Come here." House gave a wave of his hand.

Sarah crossed over to him. "What?"

"You have sleep overs, right?" House asked her. "Kiddie parties with your little pee pants friends?"

"We don't pee our pants!" Sarah exclaimed.

"Yeah, right." House rolled his eyes. "Listen, I'll give you a dollar if you'll spill some info on mommy dearest."

Sarah raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. "A dollar?"

"That's a lot of money to a kid with none," House replied.

"I got money." Sarah placed her hands on her hips, bragging. "I've got grandparents."

"And you may get two more," House told her. "Now, spill."

"Make it five and we got a deal," Sarah said.

"Are you haggling with me?" House asked.

Sarah shook her head. "I don't know what that means."

"Never mind." House pulled a five dollar bill from his wallet. "Five bucks it is." He held it out and then yanked it back. "Ah, but first, does your mom ever have any sleep overs?"

"What'd you mean?" Sarah stared up at him.

"Does she ever allow any adults to sleep over?" House waved the bill slightly.

"Well, there's my Zeyde and Bubba." Sarah gave a shrug. "And um, Aunt Dory sometimes-"

"Any _boys_ ever sleep over?" House wanted what he was looking for.

Sarah held back a giggle. "No. Mom doesn't ever have boys sleep over."

"Not that you know of anyway." House pressed his lips together, thinking.

Sarah gave another shrug. House extended the five dollar bill to her. She plucked it from his hand and began to take off.

"Hey," House called to her, causing her to turn around. "Don't tell your mom where you got that or what we talked about. Got it?"

"Got it." Sarah gave a nod and hurried away.

* * *

"Here." Cuddy held up a five dollar bill as she stood in the middle of his office. 

House looked up from his backpack as he was filling it on his desk. "Am I suppose to do some sort of sexual-"

"House, it's the five dollar bill you gave Sarah." Cuddy crossed to him.

"Oh right, of course." House moved around the desk and stared at the bill. "It does have my cocaine remains on it."

"That's not funny," Cuddy told him.

"I'm not doing cocaine," House said because he wasn't positive on whether or not she knew he was kidding.

"With you, I can never be sure." Cuddy gave a roll of her eyes.

House narrowed his eyes at her. "Real nice, Cuddy-"

"Take your money back." She offered it to him again.

"Who said it was mine?" House asked, still not taking it.

"Sarah did," Cuddy answered.

"Snitch." House frowned. "I suppose you know why I gave it to her."

Cuddy gave a short nod. "Yes."

"And?" House raised his eyebrows.

"I am not pleased," Cuddy replied.

House snatched the bill from her and smirked. "You don't know."

Cuddy placed her hands on her hips. "Of course I-"

"No, you don't." House slipped the bill into his pocket. "Mick snitched, but she didn't give her ol' man up."

"Oh,_ God_, don't say that." Cuddy let her arms fall to her sides.

"Say that I'm her father?" House zipped his backpack shut and then looked to Cuddy. "What happened to telling the truth, Cuddy?"

"Like about the pizza?" Cuddy asked him.

"You didn't want me going to your house for dinner," he replied.

"She wants a guitar now," Cuddy said. "I told her she could have yours."

"Only if you're willing to ignore child labor laws so she can work to pay it off," House returned with a shrug.

"Will you stop?" Annoyance came through Cuddy's tone.

"You started it," House pointed out.

"Okay," Cuddy nodded in agreement. "Now, we're stopping. We need to have a serious conversation. This is a mess, House."

"It's not _that_ bad." House rolled his eyes.

"She's very impressionable." Cuddy's eyebrows drew together.

"So's everyone, Cuddy," House replied. "With the right force. Cults? Mass suicide?"

"House, stop it." Cuddy let a sigh escape. "She wouldn't eat her pizza. She said it tasted funny. She loves pizza."

House shrugged. "Maybe it wasn't the pizza. Maybe it was her present company."

"I'm going to hit you," Cuddy threatened and narrowed her eyes.

"Being around you always makes me feel sick," House offered. "Must have inherited it from her fath-" Cuddy's hand swung up and House dropped his cane as he grabbed it. "Ah, Cuddy, was that an attempt to be endearing? Should have gone with a kick."

"And cause damage to your good leg?" Cuddy spat and tried to remove her arm from his grasp, but failed in doing so.

"Well, you took out the first one pretty well," House shot back.

He was still holding onto her arm, fingers wound tightly around her wrist. House's free hand went to her hip and he forced her backward, putting some of his weight against her so he didn't fall with his limp. House continued on until he had Cuddy pressed against the wall, the look of shock never leaving her face.

House brought his lips to hers and coaxed her into a kiss. Cuddy hadn't been kissed like that in so long and it caused a very missed pulsing deep within her. But, she had more important things in her life that did not include her present wants and so she kicked House in his good leg.

The pain spread quickly and he bit down on her bottom lip, which made her cry out in pain. Cuddy shoved him and he backed away, glaring. She returned the menacing stare.

"What the _hell_ is wrong with you? And you wonder _why_ I don't want you to be her father when you pull stunts like that."

Her biting words hurt his ears. Cuddy placed a hand to her tender bottom lip and stormed from his office. House frowned, the pain from her assault growing stronger. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an orange bottle, the prescription recently filled. House pulled off the lid and popped two Vicodin into his mouth.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, guys!! Thank you all for the feedback!! You guys are amazing and you all rock!! I appreciate you all so much. :o) Enjoy this next chapter.**

* * *

"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked, making sure it was evident that she was still angry. 

"Came to see Mick," he answered with a shrug.

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "You know she's asleep."

"Already?" House raised his eyebrows, feigning his shock.

"It's eleven thirty," she replied.

"Oh." He straightened up. "Guess I'll have to come back tomorrow."

"You wanted to talk to me," Cuddy said.

House stopped and paused. "Yeah."

"Is that the only honest answer I'm going to get tonight?" Cuddy asked him. "If so, you might as well go-"

"Let me in," he replied sincerely.

Cuddy took a step back and widened the space between the door and the door frame. House hobbled inside. He moved into her darkened living room. Cuddy followed after him and turned on the lamp.

"How's your lip?" he asked, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Fantastic," she snapped sarcastically. The guilty look on his face made her soften. "How's your shin?"

"Hurts," he answered.

"I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely, but her tone immediately changed. "But what did you think you were doing?"

"I was thinking about you," House told her.

Cuddy looked away from him. She stared at the sparkly velcro sneakers lying on the floor. House let his eyes remain on her.

"Lisa," he tried.

Cuddy snapped to attention. "You used, didn't you?"

"What?" House's shock, this time, was genuine.

"You used more than you should have." Cuddy felt sick to her stomach. Mostly because she knew it was, in part, her fault.

House's eyebrows drew together. "No, I-"

"Lemme see them." Cuddy extended a hand.

House stared her down. "I didn't come over here to talk about-"

"Either you let me see them or you get out," Cuddy cut him off harshly.

He paused a moment and then moved to the doorway. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Cuddy's shoulders dropped as she watched him pass her. "House, if this has anything to do with-"

"Don't," House snapped and headed down the hallway.

"You should talk to someone," Cuddy followed him out. "Wilson maybe. If this is bothering you to the point that-"

"It's not this." House stopped and spun in her direction, his words stinging. "It's you."

Cuddy froze, almost crashing into him. "Me? What do you-"

House suddenly kissed her, his hand reaching up over her chest, sliding alongside of her neck, and into her hair. He moved her towards the wall and let his cane rest against it.

Cuddy broke from his kiss. "You have to leave if you're high. I won't let you-"

His mouth covered hers again, cutting her off. Cuddy's bottom lip still hurt, but the other emotions she was feeling overrode that pain. She pulled her lips from House's and turned her head to the side in attempt to get him to stop.

"House."

House's stubble grazed over her cheek and down her neck, where he went to work next.

"God da-" She let out a breath, the ache growing. She placed two weak hands on his chest and pushed him back.

"Lisa, just let me..." House came back to her, his lips traveling over her clavicle then downward.

"Stop it!"

She placed her hand over her mouth, surprised at her own volume. Cuddy slid away from House and kept her back to him in order to regain some sense. House reached into his pocket for his Vicodin. The rattle of the bottle made her turn.

"It's been four hours," he told her as he popped the lid.

"And you're taking... _one_?" she asked him.

House made a point to lift the single pill and place it in his mouth. "Happy?"

"No." She shook her head slightly. "You should go. Please. Go."

"Mommy?" a child's voice called out.

"You're right." He gave a nod he didn't believe in. "I'm... sorry."

"Okay," she replied.

"Mom?" the young voice was more urgent.

"I'll be right there, sweetie." Cuddy called back, watching as House made his way to the front door.

"Who's out there with you?" the child asked.

House closed the front door behind him.

"No one, baby."

Cuddy shook her head, a lump forming in her throat and a wretched feeling beginning in the pit of her stomach. She turned and headed for her daughter's bedroom, her mind reminding her of the heated night that made tonight seem like tame child's play.

"_You need help!" she had shouted inches from his face. "You _need_ help! I can't do this. I'm going to have to fire you."_

"_What?" he sneered and then backed away, scoffing, "You'd never fire me."_

"_No." She raised a finger and he turned his back to her, looking over the semi familiar objects in her living room."I _never_ said that. When I hired you, I told you that as long as you could keep it together and prove that you deserved a job at my hospital, then I would keep you."_

"_I'm not proving myself?" He turned toward her._

"_You are, which astounds me really, but you're not it keeping it together," Cuddy told him and promptly folded her arms across her chest._

"_What the hell do you mean?" House stared at her. "I'm not keeping it together? I'm completely capable of making a diagnosis."_

"_Which is the part that astounds me!" Cuddy hastily replied. "You've gotten worse. There are chunks of time you can't account for. I can't babysit you anymore, House. I have a two year old. I can't be watching over the both of you."_

"_I don't need you to _watch_ over me, Cuddy." He limped toward her, wincing in pain. "Get off your damn pedestal."_

"_Right." She nodded. "Right, this all about your self righteousness. It's all about how you're better than everyone else because you _think_ you can manage your pain."_

"_I can and I _am_ managing my pain," House insisted and then stormed out of the room, not being able to be in her presence any longer._

"_Not at my hospital, you're not." She called after him as she went into the hall. "I'm sorry, House."_

_House shook his head. "You don't have reason to-"_

"_You didn't show up thirteen days last month," Cuddy angrily began the list in her head. "You've completely stopped Clinic duty. You had an emergency patient come in, but you couldn't help him because you were so far gone! I don't know if you're trying to kill yourself or if you want attention, but-"_

_House had moved toward her. He pinned her hard against the wall, his hands on her shoulders, cane digging in against her skin._

"_I_ don't_ want attention," he told her bitterly._

"_Get off of me," she demanded coldly, her eyes locked with his._

_House released her and stepped away. He turned his back to her, ashamed by his actions. Cuddy softened only because she knew what was destroying him. And it wasn't exactly the Vicodin._

"_James's attention isn't on just you anymore," Cuddy said. "You have to share his time with Claire."_

"_Claire's a bitch," House retorted over his shoulder._

"_She is not," Cuddy replied. She took a step closer to him. "I know it's hard, House, but I am telling you right now, if you don't clean up, you're going to lose your job."_

"_I don't need this." House shook his head and faced her. "I don't need you telling me what I'm suppose to do now that you have a perfect life with your kid."_

_Cuddy paused, unsure of what to say to that. She wished she could ease his anger, but she didn't know how. "Greg, you're the only one who can help you."_

"_Forget it." He moved toward the door. "Forget I stopped by. Forget I gave you a kid. Forget I worked at the hospital."_

"_Would you _stop_ with the damn self pity?" She asked loudly._

_House turned and glared, raising his voice. "You don't have any idea what I'm going through. You've got a kid, Wilson's got a wife-"_

"_And you have no one," Cuddy raised her voice to speak over him. "I know. But, you don't want to live with nothing, but your Vicodin, House. I know you need it for the pain, but I know of a program that can-"_

"_I'm not doing any programs," he cut her off. "You don't actually care. You feel guilty. That's _why_ you haven't fired me yet."_

_A realization sacked Cuddy in the stomach. "You've been doing it on purpose. All your little hospital games."_

"_Caught me," House spat and threw his arms out._

"_What is wrong with you?" Cuddy hissed, crossing towards him. "Do you want me to fire you?"_

"_I_ want you_ to get off your damn pedestal," House replied._

_Cuddy rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Oh, for God's sake, I'm not on-"_

"_I need a leave of absence," he said shortly._

_Cuddy hesitated. "What?"_

"_Two months," House told her._

"_Where are you-" Cuddy's eyebrows drew together._

"_Two months or I'm fired." He shrugged. "I bet your guilt is nearly crushing you."_

_Cuddy stared at him. She hated the fact that she was feeling guilty over this. She hated it even more that he knew._

"_You can have it." Her curiosity took her over. "Why are you doing it?"_

"_What?" He limped to her front door and pulled it open._

"_Getting help." She followed him for a few steps, but stopped._

"_I'm not." He looked back at her from the doorway. "I'm going to Maui."_

_With that, House slammed the door behind him. Cuddy didn't see nor hear from him for two months. But, when he came back, he didn't appear as sickly. And his Vicodin refills lessened. And he managed his intake. And they never talked about it. But, she still felt guilty for reasons she couldn't explain._


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, guys!! Thank you so much for the feedback. I'm really glad you're enjoying this story. Here's the next chapter!!**

* * *

"I wasn't high," House said, poking his head into Cuddy's office.

Cuddy looked up at him, taken aback by the fact that he was the first one to approach. "I... know. I shouldn't have demanded to see your Vicodin bottle. I know my mistrust undermines what you've accomplished and I'm sorry."

"It seems like the pain's been getting worse." House had crossed the room and seated himself opposite her desk. "Though, that could just be my throbbing shin."

Cuddy gave him a look, but then softened slightly. "We need to talk."

"We don't talk," House replied.

"Exactly," Cuddy agreed. "And that... needs to change. This isn't about us. It's about her. If you... _want_ to be a part... If I let you... I'm willing to let you into Sarah's life on a more personal level." Cuddy paused a moment. "If you want to, that is. No one is making you do anything. I just think it's unfair for her to know who her father is and then not give _him_ the chance to be part of her life if he wants to now that the cat's out of the bag."

"Did anyone ever tell you that your rambling is worse to listen to than your whining?" House asked her.

Cuddy frowned. "Did you even hear a word-"

"Yes," House cut her off. "And I'll think about it."

Cuddy nodded slowly. "You'll... okay. Okay, that's good."

"Yeah," House agreed and moved on quickly. "Are we going to talk about us? What happened-"

"No," Cuddy stopped him. "Besides, you have Clinic duty."

"Right, like I'm really going to go do that now." House stood to his feet. "I have to ice my shin."

Cuddy rolled her eyes at him. House gave a simple shrug and let himself out of her office.

* * *

House sat at his desk, tossing his grey and red tennis ball up in the air and easily catching it. There was a light tapping on his office door before Wilson entered.

"Working on a case?" Wilson asked.

House looked to Wilson and set his ball on his desk. He shook his head. "No."

"You were deep in thought there," Wilson pointed out and made his way across the room.

"She doesn't trust me," House said.

"Who?" Wilson paused. "Cuddy?"

House was still lost in his own thoughts, a frown on his face. "Yeah."

Wilson stopped near House's desk. "What makes you think-"

"Never mind." House pushed his chair back and brought himself back into the present.

"Is there a reason you want her to trust you?" Wilson asked cautiously, looking him over.

"When you stop analyzing me, will you come back into the conversation?" House swiveled his chair around and occupied himself with his bookcase. "Thanks."

"I'm sure she trusts you," Wilson spoke up. "After all, you're still hired here so obviously she trusts your judgement."

"Yeah," House called over his shoulder.

"Does this have to do with Sarah?" Wilson asked.

"No," House answered.

Wilson thought hard, arms folded across his chest. A realization crossed over his face. "Your Vicodin?" House didn't respond. "Why would Lisa think she can't trust you over your Vicodin? Did you do something that made her think-"

House swiveled back around. "I didn't do anything."

Wilson watched House carefully. "Then why did she think you did?"

"Because it's Cuddy," House replied. "She has a hell child so she's always suspicious of what someone else has done. Or what she thinks they've done."

"She thought you were high?" Wilson waited for a response he didn't receive. "Why would she think that?"

"We had a fight," House said. "I _tried_ to fix it, but she was all over me. _She's_ the one without the self control."

"You should talk to her about it," Wilson suggested.

"She apologized." House shrugged.

"For assuming something that was _false_, right?" Wilson made sure he understood.

House frowned, trying to hide his annoyance. "Siding with her?"

"No." Wilson shook his head. "I just didn't stop it the first time, so if there is any indication that you were-"

"Okay," House cut him off, understanding where the concern came from.

"Talk to her," Wilson repeated his previous words. "This isn't just about the mistrust. It's about Sarah."

"She's giving me a chance," House diverted his eyes from Wilson.

Wilson was slightly surprised. "Are you going to take it?"

House raised his eyes and shook his head. "No."

* * *

There was a loud knock on the door. Cuddy emerged from the kitchen and continued on through the dining room. Sarah anxiously looked up from her homework on the dining room table and towards her mother. She began to climb out of her chair.

"Can I get it?" Sarah asked.

"No, Sarah, it's late," Cuddy replied and stopped between the dining room and the hallway. "I'll get it."

"But, I want to answer the door," Sarah put on a sad face.

"Finish your homework," Cuddy instructed.

"But, tomorrow's _Saturday_," Sarah whined. "I don't even _have_ school."

"I know, but we're going to Uncle James and Aunt Claire's house tomorrow for Jack's birthday party," Cuddy reminded her daughter.

The knocking sounded again. Cuddy waited until Sarah was seated with pencil in hand before heading to the front door. Cuddy unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"House." Cuddy stared at the man on her front porch. "What are you-"

"Dr. House?" Sarah stood just outside of the dining room. "Mom won't let me get a guitar."

"I said maybe," Cuddy replied to her daughter.

Sarah crossed to the front door. "That means no."

"No it doesn't," Cuddy said.

"Hey." House gave Cuddy a light tap on the arm. "Talk to me."

"About what?" Cuddy looked back at House.

"Do you want to play something?" Sarah asked, ducking under Cuddy's arm as it extended out to the front door. "I have Chutes and Ladders."

"Sarah, finish your homework," Cuddy stared down at the girl in front of her.

Sarah looked up. "Mom-"

"Now," Cuddy's tone hardened slightly.

"Fine," Sarah replied shortly and ducked under her mother's arm again before stomping back into the dining room.

"Definitely has your boiling blood in her," House commented, watching her go.

"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked, her eyes on House.

"Wanted to talk to you," he replied.

"About?" Cuddy raised her eyebrows.

"Can I come in?" House indicated

"No." Cuddy gave a short shake of her head.

"Okay." That wasn't the answer House was looking for.

"I can't do this tonight," she told him.

House let a sigh escape. "I drove all the way out here-"

"It's not that far," Cuddy interrupted.

"So you can close the door in my face," House finished. "I'm making an effort here."

"I know," Cuddy replied. "Just... not tonight. We have to do this at my pace. For her. Please."

"Mom!" Sarah called out from the dining room. "Can Dr. House help me with my homework?"

"No, honey, he's busy," Cuddy called back before placing her attention back on House.

"You were feeling guilty for making false accusations," House said, feeling dumb for believing Cuddy's words. "That's all it was."

Cuddy softened. "No, House-"

"When you're feeling guilty again and decide to be as kind as Satan _can_ be, let me know," House cut her off and hurried from her porch.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you for all your wonderful comments and feedback! Love you guys. Enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

"And then you booted him? Why?" 

Cuddy frowned. She was standing across from Wilson in his kitchen. Shouts and laughter of children could be heard from beyond the kitchen door, but right now, the mood in the kitchen was quite somber.

"I don't know," Cuddy nearly whined. "I don't know what I'm doing, James! She's my daughter. I don't want him to hurt her."

Wilson raised his eyebrows. "You honestly think he would?"

"I honestly don't know what he'd do," Cuddy's tone indicated her defeat.

"But, hurt her?" Wilson asked, unsure.

"I'm sure it wouldn't be on purpose," Cuddy replied. "It's just... she's my _daughter_."

"James!" Claire, a smiling dirty blonde haired woman, entered the kitchen. "You'll never guess who-" Claire looked from Wilson to Cuddy. "Something's going on."

"No, it's nothing." Cuddy shook her head.

"Never guess who what?" Wilson asked, changing the subject.

"Who arrived," Claire finished her previous thought. "Greg is here."

"Oh." Wilson drew back slightly. "That's... weird. I'll go say hello."

Wilson scooted past his wife, planting a kiss on her forehead along the way. He left the kitchen and Claire looked to Cuddy. Cuddy had her arms folded across her chest as she stared down at the floor.

"Is everything all right?" Claire asked, walking toward Cuddy.

"Not_ now_," Cuddy answered.

Claire connected the dots. "Something happened between you and Greg."

"What would you do?" Cuddy raised her eyes to Claire. "Sarah knows about him being her father. And now, I don't know _what_ I'm suppose to do. This was never part of the plan."

"You told her?" Claire's eyebrows drew together.

"He did," Cuddy replied.

"Of course he did." Claire gave a roll of her eyes. "I don't know, Lisa. You know him better than anyone, I guess."

"I wish I didn't," Cuddy muttered and let out a sigh. "I wish this was easier. She _wants_ a father, but I don't know if Greg will be a _good_ thing for her. If he didn't open his big mouth..."

"You know," Claire began, "maybe she would be good for _him_."

Cuddy snapped to attention. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, he's always an asshole." Claire gave a shrug. "Maybe she'll soften him up. He's quite miserable."

"He's not miserable," Cuddy told her. "He's House."

The kitchen door swung open and a young boy with blonde hair entered. He hurried across the room, a smile on his face.

"Mommy!" The boy stopped in front of his mother and then turned to the woman next to her. "Hi, Aunt Lisa. Didja get me presents?"

"John Michael," Claire scolded. "That's rude."

"But, it's my birthday, Ma!" the boy replied.

Cuddy leaned down to the child. "I brought two presents. They're both really big."

"Yay!" His brown eyes lit up. "Thanks, Aunt Lisa!"

"You're welcome, Jack." Cuddy gave him a smile.

Jack turned to his mother. "Mommy, can we eat cake?"

"Yes." Claire nodded. "Go in and tell your father. And tell him to get Olivia."

"'Kay." Jack ran from the room.

Cuddy drew in a breath. "I'm going to run to the bathroom."

"Okay," Claire replied. "Try to avoid Greg, I guess."

Cuddy nodded in response and left Claire to tend to the cake in the kitchen. Cuddy peered down the hallway toward the living room where children were gathered in a circle, playing some game. She didn't see House, so she continued on her path.

As Cuddy headed up the dark wooden staircase, she froze at the sound of her daughter.

"Mom, where ya going?"

"Bathroom," Cuddy directed to Sarah, who stared up from the bottom of the staircase. "We're doing cake soon so don't get lost."

"Okay!" Sarah replied and then hurried back into the living room.

Cuddy continued up the stairs. House, who had been stealthily waiting in the dining room, hurried past the doorway of the living room and climbed the stairs, trying not to put too much pressure on his thigh.

House ducked into the bedroom next to the bathroom and waited. As Cuddy left the bathroom and passed by the bedroom, House grabbed her arm and pulled her in. She looked around at the light purple room with the bunny border before placing her eyes on House.

"They're doing cake soon," she told him crisply.

"I'd lay off the cake if I were you," he replied. "Have you _seen_ your backside lately?"

"Thanks." Cuddy headed for the door.

"Wait." House took her arm again.

Cuddy turned to face him. "You only came because we were here."

"Is that a problem?" House asked.

Cuddy hesitated. "No... I guess not... I just worry. I don't want you to be bad for her."

House let go of her arm. "You think I'd be bad for her?"

Cuddy took a step back and began pacing. "I don't know what I'm thinking. Sometimes I think it'll work out, but then I remember it's you and... House." She stopped and brought her eyes to him. "Greg. There's _so_ much to this."

"I know," his voice was quiet.

"I don't want this to fail." Cuddy took a step closer to him. "She needs stability. She needs something she can trust."

House locked eyes with her. "And you can't trust me, so..."

Cuddy shook her head and stopped in front of him. "I'm sorry I accused you-"

"You wreck yourself with your guilt," House said, cutting her off.

"What?" Cuddy drew back slightly.

"You're guilty over everything," House shrugged innocently. "Introverted guilt, so no one knows it's there. But, I do. You feel guilty over my thigh, over the drugs, over Mick not having a father, over our kiss two night's ago."

"She can't get hurt," Cuddy told him.

House watched her and his volume lowered even more. "What about you?"

"I'm not the important one," Cuddy replied, her volume matching his. "She comes before me in everything."

"Hey," Wilson spoke from the doorway, causing Cuddy to take a step away from House. "Are you two... okay?"

"Oh, sorry," House apologized with his sarcasm. "Didn't realize we were in _your_ room."

"We're waiting for you to do cake," Wilson told them.

Cuddy ignored House and began toward the door. House grabbed her arm, stopping her. He gave a nod to Wilson.

"We'll be down in a minute," House said to him.

Wilson waited, his eyes on Cuddy. She nodded and Wilson gave them both a nod. "Okay."

Once Wilson had left, Cuddy spun quickly, pulling her arm out of House's grasp "House, it's Jack's birthday. He's impatient and-"

"I don't care," House cut her off. "I care about you _talking_ to me."

"You want to talk, House?" Cuddy asked and placed her hands on her hips. "Fine. What the hell did you think you were doing kissing me two days ago? Do you have feelings for me or are you trying to manipulate me? I can tell you one thing about it. It's not helping your case to get into Sarah's life."

"I wasn't manipulating you," House told her honestly.

"So, you have feelings for me," Cuddy clarified, not expecting anything but a snappy retort.

House softened just enough to hurt. "I've always had-"

"No!" Cuddy stepped back. "Don't say it. You need to stop doing this."

"Doing what?" House asked, lifting his arms out at his sides.

"Barging in and shaking up my life," Cuddy answered. "You're messing with everything I made for myself and for Sarah."

House stepped towards her. "We could try-"

"House." Cuddy covered her eyes with her hand.

"Do you have feelings for me?" House asked her.

"I..." Cuddy looked up at him. "I can't bring you into our lives if it's not going to work. We have to go down for cake."

Cuddy hurried to the door.

"Lisa."

That stopped her in her tracks. She gathered her composure and turned.

"Come over tonight," she said. "We'll talk. But, it has to be after eight because I don't want Sarah to know-"

"Okay." He nodded and let her go down to the party first.


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you for your feedback!! I appreciate it so much. Enjoy this chapter. ;o)**

* * *

Cuddy followed House into her living room. Sarah was asleep and House had waited until well after nine before making his appearance. For a while, Cuddy thought he wouldn't show. But, then the knock sounded and there he was.

House sat down in her arm chair and Cuddy made her way over to the couch. She seated herself on it, her eyes on House. He was watching her, cane extended across his lap.

"Where do we begin?" Cuddy asked him.

"Why didn't we ever try?" His eyes were locked on hers.

"Okay." Cuddy raised her eyebrows. "I guess that's as good a place as any." She paused, trying to find her words. "Well, you didn't... don't want kids. And if I had found someone within the first couple of years after Sarah was born that wanted to be with us and wanted to have children, I would have wanted that possibility of having another baby." She stopped for a moment in her thoughts and then continued, "I couldn't just put those thoughts aside. Besides, at the time, your Vicodin habits were-"

"Yeah," he cut her off, nodding. "I remember."

"House, she can't get hurt," Cuddy told him.

"I don't plan on hurting her," House replied sincerely.

"Plans don't always work." Cuddy stood from the couch and walked away from him. "I never planned on telling her any time soon that you were her father." She waited and then turned. "Why did you do it?"

"Piss you off." House shrugged from his seat.

"No." Cuddy shook her head at him. "You hand in blank paperwork and sleep in the Clinic exam rooms to piss me off. This wasn't about pissing me off."

House stood from the chair and crossed to her. "I just said it."

"That's it?" She stared at him. "That's the only explanation you can give me?" House shrugged again and stopped in front of her. Cuddy kept her eyes locked with his. "If you really want to be a part of this, you have to be honest with me."

"Honest with you?" House repeated. "When have I not been honest with you?"

Cuddy raised her eyebrows at him. "Is that a serious question?"

House took the pause between them as the opportune moment to slip his hand around her backside and bring his lips down to hers. Cuddy stiffened, but found herself unable to pull away. House drew back slowly, his eyes on hers.

"Honest enough for you?" He breathed out.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him. "Why now?"

"Why not?" he replied.

House kissed her again and then moved on. Cuddy remained tense in his arms, but didn't fight.

"Because I have a child." She offered as he sucked on her earlobe. "And we've moved past this." Her breathing began to become shallow. "And I'm your boss." His kisses trailed down her neck. "And there's a child involved, House..." He nibbled at the base of her neck. "Greg..." And suddenly, she couldn't bring another word to her lips.

His cane still gripped in his hand, with his free one on her hip, House attempted to direct Cuddy to the couch. She stopped once the back of her legs hit the thick fabric of the furniture. She shook her head, breaking from his kiss.

"No, no," she whispered, her hands placed on his chest. "Bedroom."

They engaged in a strange dance to the bedroom, lips and hands roaming, silence between them as they passed the hushed bedroom of the sleeping child. House still hadn't abandoned his cane, which made it more difficult for him to hold on to Cuddy. However, Cuddy maneuvered him down the hall with an ease he hadn't expected. Although, the present actions were also quite unexpected as well.

House had her pressed against the closed bedroom door as he leaned on it to support himself after their trek down the hallway. Cuddy locked the door quickly as House caressed her neck with his tongue. She gripped onto his arms tightly, her nails digging in. He brought his mouth back to hers, kissing her deeply.

Cuddy moved him towards the bed as he unbuttoned her shirt. House sat down on the bed before resting back. Cuddy straddled his left leg as she bent over him and kissed him. He pushed her shirt off and threw it to the floor.

"God, you're beautiful." His hands skimmed down her sides and rested on her hips.

Cuddy smiled and brought her lips down to his again. One of House's hands roamed back up her body and found itself in the mess of her hair. His other hand trailed lightly upward and to the snaps on the back of her bra.

"Mom?"

"Shit," Cuddy mumbled, her mouth pressed against House's.

"Mom. The door's locked."

Cuddy climbed off of House quickly. "I'll be right there, sweetie."

"Tell her you're getting lucky," House whispered as he sat up.

"Get in the bathroom," Cuddy commanded in a whisper as well.

"What?" House stared at her.

"Go." Cuddy put her shirt on and quickly began buttoning it.

"No," House replied.

"House," Cuddy warned, shooting him a look.

House climbed from the bed and limped to the bathroom, his cane left resting on the floor. Cuddy made sure her shirt was on and correctly buttoned before she opened the door.

"What is it, sweetie?" Cuddy looked down at the child in pink pajamas. "You should be in bed. Come on."

Cuddy took hold of Sarah's hand and tried to lead her from the doorway. Sarah stood grounded.

"I want to sleep with you." Sarah stared up at her mother with misty blues.

"What?" Cuddy stopped trying to lead the child.

"I don't feel good." Sarah's free hand went to her stomach.

"What's the matter?" Cuddy's concern was evident in her tone.

"My stomach hurts," Sarah whined.

"It was probably from all that sweet stuff at the party," Cuddy said. "Come on. We'll get you something to drink."

Cuddy led the child down the hall a bit and into the kitchen. Sarah removed her hand from her mother's and waited as Cuddy reached into the cabinet and pulled out a glass.

"Can I still sleep with you?" Sarah asked.

Cuddy filled the glass with water and then turned to her daughter. "Of course, honey." Cuddy handed the glass to Sarah. "Here. Drink this."

"Hey," a deep voice came from the hallway.

Cuddy and Sarah both looked to the doorway. House stood there, cane in hand, a smile on his face. Cuddy's lips pressed firmly together while Sarah brightened into a smile.

"Dr. House!" Sarah exclaimed. "What are you doing here!"

"What are you _doing_?" Cuddy glared at him.

House kept his eyes on Sarah. "Hanging out with your mom."

"In her bedroom?" Sarah peered suspiciously at him.

"Yep," House answered.

"You locked the door." Sarah set her glass on the counter. "Mom doesn't let me lock the door when I have friends over."

"House was just being silly, Sarah," Cuddy attempted to explain. She then looked to House. "He always does such _silly_ things."

"What time is it?" House asked.

Sarah looked at the digital clock on the microwave. "Ten."

"How about we watch a movie?" House suggested, brightening his tone.

"Yeah!" Sarah exclaimed.

Cuddy stared down at her daughter. "I thought you had a stomachache."

"I do." Sarah pouted. "And I can't sleep."

"Come on, Mick." House gave a nod. "Your choice."

Sarah hurried from the kitchen and headed for the living room. House entered into the kitchen and Cuddy glared at him. He stopped just in front of her.

"What do you think you're doing?" Cuddy hissed.

"What?" House asked innocently. "If I can't see your tits, I might as well get to see them in a movie."

Cuddy placed a hand on her hip. "Yeah, because singing guppies have such amazing ti-"

"Dr. House? Is this one okay?" Sarah stood in the doorway and held up a DVD with a red and blue guppy in a fishbowl on the cover.

"Fantastic." House gave her an exaggerated smile and a thumbs up.

"I'll put it in!" Sarah hurried back to the living room.

Cuddy raised a pointed finger. "If this backfires-"

House cut her off by leaning in and sucking on Cuddy's bottom lip. He drew back, leaving Cuddy lost for words, and limped from the room. Cuddy picked up Sarah's glass of water and followed after House.

"Don't think you'll keep getting away with stealing kisses," Cuddy hissed in his ear as he entered the living.

House smirked and sat down on the couch, his right leg next to the armrest. Sarah hurried to the couch and sat alongside of House. Cuddy set the water glass on the coffee table and sat next to her daughter. She placed an arm around the child, not realizing until she did it that her arm was now pressed against House. House smirked again and Cuddy frowned in return.

The opening began, a sound that Cuddy could identify in her sleep. She wished she didn't know for a fact that she watched this movie one hundred and seven times. Sarah leaned against her mother, her hand resting just above her mother's knee.

Halfway through the movie, Cuddy had her eyes closed and was listening to the dialogue while unfortunately picturing the film in her head. She felt two fingers graze over her bare arm. She shivered slightly and looked over. House pointed to the child.

Cuddy looked down and saw that Sarah was asleep. She looked back up at House and gave him a tight smile. Carefully, Cuddy removed herself from the child. She then lifted the girl up and carried her into the child's bedroom.

House stared after her, surprised by Cuddy's strength. He stood from the couch and almost fell as his thigh gave way. He clutched the couch and rubbed his thigh. After a moment, he lifted himself back up and then shut off the movie. He began towards the hallway, but stopped when he saw Cuddy watching him from the doorway.

"I didn't know male guppies could hit such high notes," House said and Cuddy frowned at him. He smirked in return. "So, do I get to see your tits now?"

Cuddy shook her head. "No. It's late."

"All the more reason for me to stay." House crossed to her.

"No sleep overs," she told him.

"I know," he replied, stopping in front of her.

"You know?" Cuddy's eyebrows drew together.

House gave a shrug. "Interrogated your daughter."

"House!" Cuddy exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "About sex?"

"No." House rolled his eyes. "I'm better at interrogating children than that."

Cuddy folded her arms across her chest. "That's reassuring."

"What happens now?" House asked her.

Cuddy eyed him up and then shook her head. "I don't know."

"I want you." House placed a hand just behind her hip and pulled her into him.

"Greg." Cuddy placed her hands on his chest and stepped back. "Don't say things like that. Is this... only about me? Or is this about her, too? Or is it both?"

"Both," he answered without hesitation.

"Really." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes," House affirmed.

His hand was burning her backside. Cuddy took another step back, causing his hand to fall to his side.

Cuddy drew in a breath. "We're going with James, Claire, and the kids to the park tomorrow at two. You should come."

House's eyes brightened a touch. "You mean it?"

"If you want a chance, I'll give it to you," Cuddy replied.

House nodded. "I'll stop by tomorrow at quarter of."

"Okay." Cuddy led him to the front door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," House responded and let himself out.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, guys! Thanks for the great feedback. I love it. There's this chapter and then two more to follow. Therefore, a total of eleven. Enjoy!!**

* * *

"I'll get it!" Sarah booked it down the hallway, slipping slightly in her socks. She pulled opened the front door and grinned. "Hi, Dr. House! Mom! It's Dr. House!"

"Going to the park?" House asked her, a smile coming over his face as well.

"Yeah," Sarah answered. "Are you coming, too?"

"Might as well." House shrugged. "Since I'm here."

"Mom!" Sarah called out as she turned toward the rest of the house. "Dr. House is coming to the park with us!"

"I know, hun," Cuddy emerged from the bathroom. "Go get your sneakers on."

Cuddy walked toward the front door as Sarah ran back down the hallway and into her bedroom. Cuddy gave House a smile.

"Hi."

"Hi," he replied.

Cuddy stepped back and out of the doorway. "Come in."

House entered as Cuddy shut the door behind him. When she looked back at him, he began, "Listen, about last night-"

Cuddy stood up on her tiptoes and wrapped a slender hand around to the back of his head. She brought his head down enough to plant a kiss just to the side of his mouth. She drew back and lowered herself back down.

House's mouth remained partially open. "What was that?"

"Just wanted to make sure it felt the same," Cuddy told him.

"The same as what?" House asked.

"I wanted to make sure it wasn't a trick." Cuddy replied.

Sarah walked back out into the hallway and towards the front door. "Mom, I'm ready."

"Come on." Cuddy smiled at her daughter and extended a hand.

Sarah took her mother's hand and Cuddy plucked her purse from a hook alongside of the door. House opened the front door and led the way into the warm spring air. Cuddy retrieved her keys from her purse and locked the front door behind them.

"I'll drive," Cuddy told House as he stepped off her porch.

House headed toward Cuddy's car. Cuddy began to lead the way, but Sarah gave a tug on her mother's arm, holding her back. Cuddy faced her daughter, a slight look of surprise on her face.

"What is it, hun?" Cuddy asked.

Sarah motioned for her mother to lean in and Cuddy did.

"I like when Dr. House hangs out with us," Sarah told her in a whisper.

Cuddy gave her daughter a smile and a nod. "Me too."

* * *

Cuddy slowed her pace to walk in step with House. Sarah ran ahead after spotting Wilson and Jack near the swings. Cuddy scanned the area of the park looking for Claire and saw her sitting underneath the shade of a tree, a brown haired toddler in her arms.

House and Cuddy approached Claire and the child. Cuddy smiled at the tot, who was staring at the couple with her large hazel eyes. House scanned the park, feigning disinterest.

"Oh, Greg." Claire placed a smile on her face. "I didn't know you were coming."

"I like to surprise people." House stopped at the edge of blanket Claire was seated on. "Special talent of mine."

"Right," Claire agreed. "Well, have a seat."

"Rather not," House replied.

"Greg," Cuddy spoke up.

House's attention snapped to her. "Greg?"

"Leg up for walking?" Cuddy nodded to a path that was a few feet away from them.

"Well, it's not up for sitting on the ground," House said.

"I'll keep an eye on Sarah," Claire offered as she bounced her daughter in her lap.

"Thanks." Cuddy gave Claire a smile.

Cuddy led the way to the path and House followed after her. He stepped alongside of her as they followed the dirt path that led through a long row of trees before looping around a fenced in pond and returning back to the starting place.

"Do you do this often?" House asked her.

"We try to go for a few hours on the weekend when the weather's nice," Cuddy answered him.

"I meant take dates to the park," House replied.

Cuddy shook her head, a hint of a smile on her face. "This isn't a date."

"What is it then?" House asked her.

"It's time for you to spend with Sarah." Cuddy looked back to the play area where Sarah was being pushed on the swings by Wilson.

"But, Mick's over there with Wilson." House looked back as well.

"And..." Cuddy continued down the path. "Time with me. Time with us. House." Cuddy stopped. "I'm considering you."

House stopped in his step and faced Cuddy. "I'm flattered."

Cuddy looked toward the ground. "I can't keep..."

"What?" House took a side step closer to her, wanting to lift her chin up, but finding himself with a lack of courage to do so.

Cuddy straightened and took in a breath. Her eyes met House's. "I can't keep pretending I don't have feelings for you. And I tried. Because it wasn't right and then there was Sarah to think of and we work together and I kept telling myself that it would never work, but now you're here and saying and _doing_ all these things and I-"

"You're rambling again," House cut her off, not being able to stand her endless trail of words.

"More annoying than my whining." Cuddy gave a nod. "Right. Sorry. I don't ramble like this often."

"Only on personal topics that you try not to think about," House said, giving a nod as well.

"Right." Cuddy gave him an embarrassed smile which quickly faded. "Greg... when did you want a kid? When did you realize that maybe you did want..."

"I didn't," House replied lightly. "Mick's smart, has a knack for the guitar, she's not as annoying as other spawn I've been forced to encounter."

"What if she was?" Cuddy asked, a slight hurt shadowing her face. "What if she was annoying to you and failed first grade and played a guitar like she had four pairs of gloves on? Would we not be standing here now?"

House paused a moment. "No... we would be."

"Then,_when_ did you realize?" Cuddy repeated her previous question.

"Oh, right." House nodded. "Let me get out my palm pilot. I marked the date so I could make sure to get myself an anniversary present."

"Greg." Cuddy narrowed her eyes.

"I don't have a date for you, Cuddy!" House exclaimed, holding his palms open for her in his exasperation. "I _can_ tell you she was one of the reasons I cleaned up. One thing that messes with a kid is when she finds out her dad's a drug addict."

Cuddy nodded. "Since then you've wanted-"

"No." House stopped her. "I've never _wanted_. I've just always been. I was there when she was sick, for both you and her. But, I'm not the kind of father Mick should have... even you think so. Why would I say something only to mess up our relationship when I was already looking over you when you needed someone to?"

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together and she took his words in before she began speaking. "But, didn't that hurt? If you had wanted to be part of her life, you could have told me. Or given me some sort of indication. I mean, I know you were always kind to her, but I assumed that you still never wanted kids."

House looked out over the park, squinting at the sun. He frowned and brought his eyes back to Cuddy. "You know how you were worried that I'd be bad for her?"

"Yes, but-"

"Cuddy," House cut her off quickly. "That was on my mind since the day she was born." House looked over to the swings and watched Sarah for a few seconds before again bringing his eyes back to Cuddy. "I always came to the conclusion that she would be better off with just you. Besides, wanting children stopped being a desire back when Hanson was popular."

"Hanson?" Cuddy asked, not getting the cultural reference.

"Mmm Bop," House said, but then shook his head. "Never mind."

"So, if you hadn't told Sarah, it'd be just like before," Cuddy concluded, her eyebrows still drawn.

"One could assume," House replied.

"Well, that's tragic," Cuddy commented.

"See the beauty that comes out of train wrecks, Cuddy?" House asked her and leaned in, his tone indicating she had overreacted. "And you were upset."

"I had every right to be," Cuddy told him. "And what are you going to say to your parents?"

"Nothing." House shrugged simply.

"You have to tell them they have a grandchild," Cuddy said.

"No, I don't." House shook his head. "Besides, the only way he'd ever know would be if I told her. And since she doesn't remember anything for longer than twenty minutes, it's pointless."

Cuddy softened. "Greg..."

"What?" House raised his eyebrows. "They don't need to know."

"What about Sarah?" Cuddy placed her hands on her hips. "She's going to ask about them. Maybe even want to see them."

"For eight years, Mick never knew I was her father," House said. "She can wait eight more years to know about her grandparents. By then, they might be dead."

"Okay." Cuddy shrugged, going along with it. "So, when she comes to you tomorrow, next week, in a month, and asks you about her grandparents and if they could visit, you're going to lie to her and refuse?"

House paused a moment and then shook his head. "No. But, he doesn't have a _right_ to know her."

"But, your mom does even with her Alzheimer's," Cuddy replied. She hesitated. "I know you and your father don't get along, but sometimes, people are incredibly different to their grandkids than they were to their own children."

"Mom!"

Cuddy and House both turned as Sarah ran toward them. She stopped in front of them, breathing heavily in an attempt to catch her breath. Her dark hair was plastered to her forehead.

"Will you come push me on the swings?" Sarah asked. "Please? Uncle James sucks at it."

"Watch the language," Cuddy warned.

"Sorry," Sarah replied.

"I'll push you on the swings, Mick," House spoke up.

"Come on." Sarah took his free hand and began tugging him along.

House gave shrug to Cuddy and tried to keep up with Sarah. Cuddy smiled to herself and followed after them.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey, guys! This is the second to last chapter. I'm a bit sad about it. I'm going to miss this fic when it's done. Anyway, thank you for your amazing feedback. You guys are AWESOME. Enjoy!**

* * *

Cuddy threw open her front door. It was a little after five thirty and she was still in her work clothes. House stared at her, expectantly.

"Hi." Cuddy sighed and stepped back. "Come in."

"What's wrong?" House entered her home.

"Sarah's upset." Cuddy closed the front door behind House.

"Why?" House's eyebrows drew together.

"She wouldn't tell me," Cuddy replied.

"Where is she?" House asked, looking around.

"Locked herself in the bathroom," Cuddy answered.

House raised his eyebrows. "Don't you have a key?"

"Yes," Cuddy snapped. "But I'm not going to just barge in there when-"

"You're upset," House finished.

"Yeah," Cuddy agreed. "And I can't _force_ her to talk to me. Maybe you should just come over tomorrow night instead. I haven't made dinner because I was trying to get her to talk to me and-"

"Let me try," House suggested.

Cuddy shook her head apprehensively. "House."

"She likes me, remember?" House reminded her.

"Hey." Cuddy frowned. "She likes me."

"But, she likes me more," House replied.

Cuddy rolled her eyes as House limped down the hall. He stopped outside of the closed bathroom door and knocked. There was no response.

"Hey, Mick, let me in," House said. "I thought we could talk about getting you a guitar."

"You're lying to her," Cuddy hissed in his ear.

"Am not," he shot back in a whisper. The lock clicked. "Anyway, it worked."

Cuddy backed away from House as the bathroom door opened a crack and one blue eye peered upwards. Sarah pulled the door open and let House enter before she shut the door. House limped to the toilet, lowered the lid, and seated himself. He indicated for Sarah to sit on the edge of the tub, directly across from him.

Sarah trudged to the tub and sat. Her eyes met House's and he could tell she had been crying, but that she wasn't going to continue crying in front of him. Just like her mother.

"What kind of guitar do you want?" House asked casually, twirling his cane between his fingers.

"I don't know much about guitars," Sarah replied.

House eyed her up. "What about color?"

Sarah gave a shrug. "I like pink."

"They have pink guitars with that cat," House told her. "The one with the bow on its head."

"Hello Kitty?" Sarah brought her eyes up to his face.

"Yep." House nodded. "I bet I could talk your mom into getting one."

Sarah looked hopeful, but then the small smile disappeared and she shrugged.

"What?" House drew back. "You don't want it?"

Sarah shrugged for a third time.

"Are you upset about something?" House asked. "Or do you always play in the bathroom after school?"

"I hate Melissa Struthers," Sarah told him.

House frowned. "Who's that?"

"A girl in my class." Sarah stood up and moved toward the door. "She thinks she's so pretty because Mike Rosetti likes her, but she's not pretty. She's dumb."

"Right, dumb," House agreed.

Sarah faced him. "She said I was weird."

"Did she?" House raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah." Sarah folded her arms across her chest. "She said that I was weird and Mom is the 'b' word."

"Rhymes with itch?" House asked her.

"Yeah," Sarah answered.

House watched her. "Do _you_ think your mom's the 'b' word?"

"No!" Sarah exclaimed and made her way back to the bathtub. "And I told Melissa that and then she said _I_ was the 'b' word, too. And she told all the other kids that I was the 'b' word and I'm not. Now all the kids hate me."

House shook his head. "They don't hate you."

"Yeah-huh." Sarah sat on the edge of the tub again. "They like her more than me so they'd listen to her."

"Do you know what happens to people like Alyssa?" House dropped his tone.

"Melissa," Sarah corrected.

"Right," House agreed.

"What happens?" Sarah asked quietly, looking curiously at him.

House took in a breath. "Well, her parents divorce, there's an awful custody battle between the drunk mom and infidel father, and then she grows up and becomes a _real_ 'b' word."

Sarah stared at him, mouth slightly open. House leaned forward.

"Okay," he said. "Let me try again. You know what's so great about being in the second grade?"

Sarah hesitated. "What?"

"Kids forget everything a week later," House answered. "Maybe even a day later if there's something more interesting going on."

Sarah shook her head. "Nu-uh. They're going to hate me forever! And it's not even true what she said!"

"You know, when I was in second grade, the kids made fun of me," House told her.

"You're just saying that," Sarah replied.

"Nope." House gave a quick shake of his head. "My mom gave me an awful haircut. You ever see the cartoons where someone gets electrocuted and their hair sticks up in all directions?"

"Yeah," Sarah answered.

"That was me," House confided. "I posed for those cartoons in second grade."

Sarah frowned. "Nu-uh."

"Okay, so I didn't," House gave in easily. "But I did have an awful haircut and the kids made fun of me. Unlike your situation, I couldn't ignore them because it was true."

Sarah eyed him up, debating her trust in his story. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." House shrugged. "Cried a little. Hated my mom. And then three days later, someone caught this kid named Joseph picking his nose-"

"Ew." Sarah made a face.

"And the kids turned on him and no one made fun of my hair again," House said. "A week later, they forgot about Joseph Booger Eater, too. Now, why don't we get out of the bathroom, get some food, and try to talk your mom into buying a Hello Kitty guitar?"

Sarah nodded, still a bit somber. "Okay."

House led the way to the bathroom door and opened it. Cuddy was standing away from the door, her back turned. She spun around when the door opened. House led the way out, followed by Sarah.

Cuddy took a step closer to them. "Is everyth-"

"It's fine," House cut her off.

"Come here," Cuddy commanded her daughter gently.

Cuddy stretched her arms out and Sarah went to her. Cuddy hugged her daughter tightly and Sarah breathed in the familiar scent of her mother. Cuddy placed a kiss on Sarah's head.

"I love you," Cuddy told her.

"I love you, too, Mom," Sarah replied, hugging her mother tighter.

Cuddy rubbed Sarah's back. "How about you finish your homework while I make dinner, okay?"

Sarah drew back and looked up. "What're we having?"

"Breakfast," Cuddy answered her.

"Pancakes?" Sarah asked, raising hopeful eyebrows.

"Sure." Cuddy nodded

"With blueberries?" Sarah gave a smile

"If you want them," Cuddy replied.

"I do." Sarah pulled away from her mother and turned to House. "Do you, Dr. House?"

"Love blueberries," House said.

"Okay, 'cause then we have to tell Mom about the you know," Sarah whispered.

"Okay," House whispered back and gave her a nod.

Sarah walked down the hallway and retrieved her backpack from beside the front door. She carried it into the living room. Cuddy led House into the kitchen and spoke quietly as she drew the pancake mix and a pan from the cupboard.

"What happened?" Cuddy asked him.

House leaned against the door frame. "Some Melissa-"

"Struthers," Cuddy nodded, the name familiar.

"Yeah." House stepped into the kitchen. "Called her the 'b' word."

Cuddy froze, the box of pancake mix in one hand and the pan handle in the other. "What?"

House shrugged. "She said it rhymed with itch."

"Those kids don't even know what that means." Cuddy dropped the pan to the stove with a loud clank. "At least, they shouldn't. I'm calling Melissa's mother right now."

Cuddy set the pancake mix on the counter and moved toward the phone. House stepped in her way.

"You may have to make a few more phone calls than that," he told her.

"What do you mean?" Cuddy's eyebrows drew together.

"Apparently, Melissa told everyone and all the kids hate your daughter," House answered. "Mel's the little ringleader, isn't she?"

"Why didn't Sarah tell me?" Cuddy asked, taking a step away from House. "She doesn't usually-"

"Mel called you a bi-" he cut himself off. "The 'b' word, too."

"What?" Cuddy stared at him. "Where does this girl get that kind of language? I'm calling-"

"Don't." House shook his head.

"Don't?" Cuddy repeated. "Second graders shouldn't be using that kind of language. I'm calling the school and then Melissa's mother to see where she picks up-"

"Okay." House stopped her. "Call. Later. When I'm not here to hear it."

Cuddy frowned and attempted to pass House. "I should talk to Sarah."

"No." House gently took hold of her arm. "I handled it. You have to buy her a Hell Kitty guitar, though."

"Hell_o_ Kitty," Cuddy corrected.

"A pink one." House released her arm. "I told her I'd talk you into it."

"Thanks," Cuddy replied sarcastically.

"No problem," House responded with a shrug.

Cuddy hesitated and gave him a small smile. "Really, though. Thank you. For talking to her."

"She's my daughter too," House said and made his way over to the counter where he picked up the pancake mix.

"Yeah." Cuddy followed after him. "She is."


	11. Chapter 11

**Thank you all for your tremendous response to this fic. And since I can't seem to leave Sarah alone, a sequel to the sequel has begun taking place in her teen years. It's tentatively titled at this point in time and has some work on it. Stay tuned and thanks for being fantastic readers!**

* * *

"Things are going... well?" Wilson raised his eyebrows as he sat at his desk.

"My patient just died, so yeah," House replied as he moved into Wilson's office.

Wilson's mouth fell open. "Oh, House, I'm-"

"I didn't have a patient," House cut him off, stopping in the middle of the room and smirking.

"Nice," Wilson commented, frowning now. "And I _meant_ well with Sarah."

"Mick?" House asked. "What about her?"

"I do talk to Lisa, you know," Wilson pointed out.

"Right, girl talk." House nodded.

"And you've been coming to the park for the last month," Wilson added.

"I've taken up bird watching," House told him.

Wilson stared at him. "House-"

"Sorry." House cut in as he made his way to the door as he glanced at his watch. "Now's about the time when I go mess with the new kid on my team."

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm happy for you," Wilson spoke up.

House lingered a moment at the door and ran his tongue over the backside of his bottom lip. He gave a short nod to Wilson and left.

* * *

"Does it distract you when I do... this?"

House pressed himself against Cuddy's backside and his lips found themselves on the side of her neck. Cuddy smirked and pulled her purse across her desk toward her.

"I thought you said you weren't going to-" Cuddy drew in a quick breath as his teeth lightly made their way across her clavicle.

Cuddy picked up her purse and faced House. He still remained close to her and he brought his lips to hers. He tugged gently on her bottom lip as he drew back. Cuddy smiled and then stepped around him.

"I have to pick Sarah up from school," she told him as she headed for the door.

"I'll go with you." House grabbed his cane from its resting place against Cuddy's desk.

"_No_." Cuddy stopped at the door. "You'll go home, change, and then come over at seven if you want."

"If I want?" House raised his eyebrows as he crossed to her. "Of course I want. I always want."

"Good," Cuddy replied and headed out the door. "We'll see you at seven."

* * *

"House!" Sarah tugged on his arm. "Come in. Mom's in the kitchen. Wanna see me play the song I'm learning?"

"Sure," House replied.

Sarah closed the door behind him. She led him down the hallway. Cuddy peeked out from the dining room.

"Hi." She gave House a smile. "I'll be done in a minute."

"Take your time," House replied and gave her a wink. "We've got all night."

Cuddy shook her head and returned to the kitchen. Sarah pulled House into her pink bedroom which was covered in Hello Kitty paraphernalia. She hurried to her guitar and picked it up.

With her tongue peeking from her mouth in her concentration, Sarah began to play the chords she had learned. House watched, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"She's getting better everyday," Cuddy said from the doorway in a quiet tone.

Cuddy entered into the room and stood next to House. He took Cuddy's hand within his own. Her hand was cold and slightly damp within his warm one. House figured she must have just loaded the dishwasher.

Sarah's playing stopped and she looked to House. "That's all I know so far."

"You're doing great, Mick," House told her. "A natural. You'll give Mick Jagger a run for his money."

Sarah smiled and returned her guitar to its stand. House gave Cuddy's hand a squeeze before letting it go. Sarah approached them.

"Can we watch a movie?" she asked.

"Sure," Cuddy answered before she exchanged a look with House as Sarah hurried out of the bedroom.

Forty minutes later, House and Cuddy were seated on the couch with Sarah between them, the singing guppies filling the television screen. Sarah had cuddled underneath Cuddy's arm and House had taken to tracing circles behind Cuddy's shoulder with his thumb.

By the end of the seventy nine minute film, Sarah's head made it to Cuddy's lap and House's hand lost itself behind Cuddy's back. As the credits rolled, Sarah stirred from her state of near sleep and sat up. She looked to her mother.

"Time for bed," Cuddy told her.

"But, it's not even nine!" Sarah exclaimed, blinking away her sleepiness.

"We have to get up early tomorrow," Cuddy replied.

"_Mom_," Sarah whined. "I wanna stay _up_. House is _here_."

"No, sweetie, come on."

Cuddy stirred and Sarah climbed off the couch. House's hand felt cold now that Cuddy's warmth was gone. Cuddy stood up and attempted to direct Sarah to the doorway, but she stood grounded.

"What about House?" Sarah asked her mother. "He's gotta leave, too."

Cuddy looked to House and then lowered herself back down to the couch. She took Sarah's hand within her own.

"Actually, Sarah," Cuddy began. "He's going to spend the night."

"He's sleeping over?" Sarah stared at Cuddy.

"Yes," Cuddy answered.

Sarah's eyebrows drew together. "Where?"

"In my room," Cuddy replied.

"Can't he stay in mine?" Sarah tugged on her mother's hand. "I have a sleeping bag."

"Sleeping on the floor isn't good for his leg," Cuddy told her.

Sarah bounced slightly in her excitement. "He can have my bed and I'll sleep on the floor. Please, Mom." She looked to House. "Please, Da- House."

"Sorry, Mick." House shook his head. "You've got to get your sleep and we'd just stay up all night telling ghost stories and painting our nails."

"No, we won't!" Sarah exclaimed. "Please!" She turned back to Cuddy. "Please?"

"No, sweetie, come on."

Cuddy stood back up and led Sarah from the living to the little girl's bedroom. Sarah folded her arms across her chest, pouting. Cuddy walked over the bed and sat down.

"Come here before we get ready for bed," Cuddy patted the open space next to her.

Sarah stared at her mother a moment before crossing the room and sitting next to her.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"Sarah," Cuddy paused a moment, "what would you think if Greg stayed here more often?"

Sarah eyed Cuddy carefully. "How often?"

"Well, a few night's a week at first," Cuddy told her. "Then... maybe all the time. If things work out."

Sarah's eyes widened. "He'd live here?"

"Yes," Cuddy answered.

"With us?" Sarah scrunched her face up.

"Yes." Cuddy gave a nod.

Sarah's face softened. "And he'd be my father?"

"He is your father," Cuddy reminded.

"But..." Sarah tried to articulate her thoughts. "We'd be... like a family."

"Sarah," Cuddy tenderly tucked some hair behind her daughter's ear. "We were always a family. You and me."

"But, we'd be a family with a dad now," Sarah said.

"Right," Cuddy agreed.

Sarah slid from the bed and gave a shrug. "I guess that's okay."

"Okay." Cuddy nodded, watching her daughter. "If you're unsure or feel upset or uncomfortable, let me know and we'll talk about it. All right?"

Sarah faced her mother. "Yeah, Mom."

"Get ready for bed," Cuddy told her and stood from the bed. "Brush your teeth. I'll come and tuck you in."

Sarah nodded and headed to her dresser to retrieve her pajamas. Cuddy exited her bedroom and walked back down the hall to the living room.

"How'd it go?" House stood from the couch.

"Good." Cuddy walked toward him. "I think."

"You think?" House skimmed a hand down Cuddy's arm.

"No," Cuddy answered. "It is good. She understands. It's just new to her."

House removed his hand. "If you think we're going too fast-"

"We're all right," Cuddy told him with a nod.

"Okay." House nodded as well. "So, it's all right if I kiss you here?" House kissed her right cheek. "And here?" He kissed her left cheek. "And here?" He brought his lips to hers.

"Mom!"

Cuddy pulled away from House and called toward the hallway, "Coming!"

House followed Cuddy down the hall to Sarah's bedroom. Cuddy entered while House lingered in the doorway. Sarah climbed into her bed and pulled her blankets over herself.

"That was fast," Cuddy said to her daughter.

"I'm a fast brusher," Sarah replied.

"Lemme see them," Cuddy commanded as she sat down on the bed while Sarah showed her an exaggerated smile. Cuddy noted the two teeth coming in and she nodded. "Very good. Goodnight, Sarah."

"Night, Mom," Sarah responded.

Cuddy bent down and kissed her daughter on the forehead. "I love you very much."

"Love you, too." Sarah kissed her mother's cheek in return. Sarah then directed her gaze to the doorway. "Night, Dad."

Cuddy looked to House. House took a step into the room.

"Night, Mick," he called out to the child.

Cuddy smoothed the bed sheets and stood. She crossed the room and turned out the light. House moved out the room, followed by Cuddy. She left the door slightly ajar.

House headed for Cuddy's bedroom. Cuddy followed him in and shut the door behind her. House switched on the lamp and seated himself on the edge of the bed. Cuddy stared at him.

"That was unexpected," House said, his eyes on Cuddy.

"Not really." Cuddy shrugged. "She's called you Dad twice when I've been with her. She constantly corrects herself." Cuddy eyed him up. "You okay?"

"Yeah," House replied.

Cuddy walked over to the bed and sat down next to him. "Greg..."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Just never thought I'd be sitting here with you and having a kid calling me Dad."

Cuddy took House's chin in her hand and planted a kiss on his lips before drawing back and smiling. "Don't you just love train wrecks?"


End file.
